


three times yes, one time no

by goreds



Category: Wolf Hall (TV), Wolf Hall Series - Hilary Mantel
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Hate Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, well an attempt anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28682238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goreds/pseuds/goreds
Summary: Thomas Cromwell got around, and there's no shame in that.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Thomas Cromwell, Mary Boleyn/Thomas Cromwell, Thomas Cromwell/Henry VIII of England, Thomas Cromwell/Jane Seymour
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	three times yes, one time no

**MARY**

Mary is surprised to find herself being kissed by Thomas Cromwell in one of the dark corners of some castle or another--she can’t really remember the name of it, because it’s been so long since she was touched by a man that Thomas’s advances are overcoming any intelligence she has. He lays kisses up and down her neck, occasionally biting and nipping, and she pushes him away when he does that, because she can’t be wearing high collars in the heat of summer. Besides, her sister would certainly suspect something.

But they won’t know who marked her.

But then he backs off, shyly. She asks him what’s wrong, and he just shakes his hand. The man’s newly widowed, she knows that, and she knows she shouldn’t push. So she merely says goodbye with a kiss on his cheek, hoping that someday he will catch her in a dark corner once more.

* * *

**ANNE**

Some months after Elizabeth’s birth, when Anne’s fertility in regard to male heirs is in question, when she should definitely not be fucking any man besides her husband, she finds herself held down by _Cremuel_ , as he thrusts into her and practically makes her scream with laughter about how desperate he seems. This feels like the culmination of years of mutual desire--and loathing--and as he grunts, she notes that this is not the first time he’s made love, which surprises her, even though she knows he has children.

She just rather imagined them popping out of nowhere, the product of a frustrated wife’s infidelity. Mary says _Cremuel_ is actually quite the lover, according to the gossip at court, but Anne never believed all that.

She was wrong.

He is not gentle with her, and it reminds her of Henry during his fits, but somehow much more respectful than Henry. Before they even started, he asked her if she wanted to do this, and she responded by grabbing his codpiece with one hand and grabbing him close for a kiss in response.

It progressed from there, with her practically ripping her own clothes away, and him watching, half-disgusted, half-aroused. He was inside her soon enough, but he never kissed her back, no matter how much she asked for it. This was possibly just hate for him, with a tinge of respect--she was his Queen, after all.

Two or so years later, when she’s at the executioner’s block, she catches a glimpse of him in the crowd, just before they blindfold her, and she gasps at the memory of the two of them after he pulled out, lying next to each other, the one moment he allowed himself to be somewhat tender with her. All it was was a smile, but Henry had never smiled at her afterwards. And then the blinders went back over, and he was the aloof _Cremuel_ once more.

* * *

**HENRY**

Henry, the King of fucking England, is kneeling before his chief minister, Thomas Cromwell, in an odd swap of roles. He’s not disgusted by this, although he should be. His father would have killed him had he ever caught Henry in this position, which he has been in many, many times before.

There have been too many men and boys to count, and Henry’s not particularly ashamed by that fact, although he definitely should be. He’s so dominant over women, over his subjects, but when it comes to men?

He undoes Cromwell’s codpiece and unlaces his breeches and is not unimpressed by the cock attached to the man. It makes sense—Cromwell has always acted like he had a big cock, even if Henry didn’t believe it himself.

Maybe this is why he prefers to suck men off as opposed to being sucked off—he knows he is not particularly well-endowed. Catherine was very disappointed when they first fucked, and Anne downright mocked him. But now, they’re both dead, and he’s here, with Cromwell, and that brings him back down to earth.

He puts his mouth around Cromwell’s cock, but the other man doesn’t make a sound, even though he’s stiff in Henry’s mouth. Henry keeps working on making Cromwell moan, but he doesn’t even sigh. Henry takes the cock out of his mouth for a moment to glare up at Cromwell. Cromwell doesn’t look down, just grabs Henry by his hat and puts his head back down towards his penis.

Henry continues to work on Cromwell, but he really doesn’t make any utterance one way or the other. He comes, eventually, and Henry decides, just this once, to actually swallow.

That makes Cromwell at the very least, smile.

* * *

**JANE**

Jane has never met a man as tender as Thomas Cromwell. She knows from court gossip that most men aren’t kind in bed, but he is. Maybe it’s because he’s always doted on her. Maybe he isn’t like this with other people. She doesn’t know, and she doesn’t care.

For as he undresses her, layer by layer, he grows quieter and quieter, unlike most men, who grow louder and louder. Almost as if he seems shy about making love to his young friend. Are they friends anymore? Have they moved into something else, entirely? She wonders this as he gently nuzzles her breasts, before moving downwards, towards her navel and then—past that.

Jane’s eyes widen as he begins to nip and lick and kiss her nethers, which no man has done before, and no man will certainly do after this. She enjoys it, but she’s also shocked: where did he learn this sort of thing? With what woman? His nose tickles her, and she finds herself giggling in spite of herself.

He looks up at her, lips and nose gleaming with her fluids and smiles, not cockily, but almost…beautifully. She knows she is likely the King’s next conquest, and that he will not be nearly as protective and sweet as Thomas has been. She almost wishes she could stay in this moment forever.

He helps her get dressed, afterwards, and she thanks him before he goes. He presses his lips to her extended hand and takes her hand afterwards, squeezing it, as if he knows he will rarely see her again.


End file.
